In The Dark
by CandyGurl83
Summary: A songfic. After Harry's 5th year, he's at the Dursley's reflecting on Sirius' death, guilt, and what is important in life...


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In The Dark (Losing Hope)  
by CandyGurl83  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters from Harry Potter. The song lyrics are property of Christopher Carrabba, aka Dashboard Confessional.  
  
A/N: This is post-OoP. A songfic, if classified. The song is called "Am I Missing" by Dashboard Confessional. Read and Review. No flames, please, just constructive critisism. Let me know what you think. 

  
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It had been almost three months since Sirius died. School would start soon, and Harry was still stranded at the Dursleys. The clock struck 3 o'clock in the morning. Harry was stretched out on his bed, staring unblinkingly at the ceiling. He had been withdrawn more than usual, feeling empty inside since 'it' happened. "No, that's a lie," he thought. "At least before I felt anger and hope. Now… I'm nothing." The Boy Who Lived felt hardly that. He was numb inside, blinded by his guilt and grief so much that he felt nothing. He was dead inside… and he blamed it on himself. "After all, I demanded to go… I even put my friends in danger. If I hadn't been a prat and insisted on leaving, then what?" he said, chastising himself. "Hermione was right," he thought, "as usual." He insisted on playing hero because he thought Sirius would die. "It happened… and it's all my fault," he sighed. He was right about Sirius dying, at least. Of course, he didn't get the same satisfaction as Hermione does when she's right. Who would, in this case? Was it all worth it? The only good that came from it all was the world being alerted, again.  
  
Sharp disaster in a fresh new coma.  
Was it worth it when it was over?  
Proving yourself right, you'd make the biggest noise.  
  
He wished he could take it all back. If only Hermione still had her time turner… He could go back and warn himself, or Sirius. Maybe he could even use that mirror… Harry thought back to the shattered mirror that lay in the bottom of his trunk. He hadn't touched it since that night at Hogwarts. It was too painful. "If only I remembered it sooner…"   
  
Well, I'd lock my hands behind my head,  
I'd cover my heart and hit the deck,  
I'd brace myself for the impact if I were you.  
  
Harry turned his head to the side. Hedwig's cage still sat n the corner of the room, empty. She'd been gone for a few days now, leaving Harry waiting for news. Maybe she was intercepted? Maybe they've been attacked? Maybe they're watching him right this very minute? Or perhaps celebrating some good news? Maybe they found Sirius, or were celebrating another year of Ron and Hermione being prefects. (Maybe Ginny too?) So many 'maybe's and the only thing he knew for sure was that he was here, alone.  
  
It's a long wait for an answer. Is there any news? Is there any word?  
Was there trauma? Or a struggle? Am I missing? Or was the body found…  
  
Harry knew his fate… He hated it, but accepted it. Accepted it like he accepted his scat, being The Boy Who Lived, being an orphan, his parents' death, being stuck with his relatives, not being with his friends, never getting to see his godfather again… A tear rolled down his cheek. "Why?" he whispered, "Why did you have to die? Why did you have to go through that archway? I need you…" The tears were flowing now, burning like acid down his cheeks. He's had so much to accept, so many burdens that they caused him to lose hope and his spark for life. "What's the point?"  
  
Is there anything worth looking for?  
Worth loving for? Worth lying for?  
  
Voldemort was out there, wreaking havoc while Harry Potter was stuck with a group of cruel muggles, unable to do magic. At this rate, he didn't feel like he could face Voldemort and survive. Harry wasn't sure he minded though. He hated waiting almost as much as he hated feeling dead inside. "He might as well finish off what he started," he thought. Why wait for death when it will catch you eventually? "The Boy Who Lived," Harry snorted, "More like The Boy Who Lived To Die, or The Boy Who Lived A Tragic Life. Maybe The Boy Who Lived To Solve Everyone Else's Problems. Maybe Trelawney was right all those years…"  
  
Is there anything worth waiting for?  
Worth living for? Worth dying for?  
  
Without him, the world is doomed. Dumbledore seemed to make that clear. But wasn't playing the hero is what got him in this mess anyway? "The only people that ever truly believed me anyway were…" Harry sighed as he looked over at a picture on his desk. "My friends," he said looking at the smiling faces of Ron, Hermione, Ginny, Neville, and Luna. It was taken on the train ride home. "No, not home," Harry corrected himself, thinking. As a child, he heard that home is where the heart is. Therefore, his resided with each of them, loyal and true. He missed them…  
  
Hedwig came soaring through the window, dropping a letter on Harry's face. Sitting up, he quickly opened up the letter while she perched on his shoulder.

  
Dear Harry,  
I hope you're alright. Sorry it took so long to write back. Come downstairs and open the door, please.  
Yours Truly,  
Remus  


Harry looked curiously at Hedwig, then darted down the stairs. He glanced out the window, as they've told him to do, just in case. Outside stood his guard, the Weasley's, and his best friends. A small smile tugged at Harry's mouth as he swung open the door. He was showered with hugs and smiles from each shining face of people he cared about. "This is what it's all about," he thought, feeling a crack in the ice that consumed him.  
  
I'm home…


End file.
